I don't get it. Why would grownups leave out all the important bits and fill kids' heads with shit they'll never use? It's counterproductive and rather mean. Besides, you'd think for someone that old, they'd know how to get the point of a freaking story.
I'm guessing the most prominent bit about growing up is functioning without comfort zones, after having lost them or never having found them at all. People talk of it as if it's a liberating experience, like comfort zones are crutches for the life-ly challenged. They flush their savings into some makeshift mountain hike and they think that counts. But it doesn't. It's not until you have nothing and no one to depend on that you get to realize how it's really like. The funny part is this, it has equal parts horror and ecstasy, and it will drive you up the wall sometimes by how amply you get your fill of each scope, and how often you shuffle the two. It's incredibly hard to find your feet after losing ground (more literally than metaphorically, for that's how it feels on more levels than one), and calling it hard is optimistic. You have no idea if you'll ever find ground, and every expectation you were ever naive to hold and nourish will fall to pieces as you come to terms with just how helpless you really are, and how hard it is to make it out there. It feels like slaying a dragon sometimes. With a toothpick. That you don't even have or know how to acquire.
Many would argue that what makes life feel great is the fact that you don't know how things will turn out. That's not quite what I'm talking about. I'm talking about losing the simple truths and having trouble knowing what's real from then on.
Comfort zones can be people, ideas or states of mind. They're the things you know will never change, and will be there waiting for you in case you need somewhere to hide and feel safe. They don't judge or demand, they don't question or budge. They don't leave. They're there, and they're neutral if not pleasant. But most of all, they're unchanging. They're portable homes. You know that no matter how many things go to shit, everything's gonna be okay because they're there and they make everything better without necessarily doing anything about it. They're the things that people take for granted.
People make terrible comfort zones, no matter how great they are. You don't even feel yourself opening up to them, and you have no idea they've been landmarked as one until they're gone and it feels like you've been hit in the head with Thor's hammer. Ideas make great comfort zones, you can build entire worlds out of them that will engulf you and give you sustenance for as long as you need to retreat from the world of men. Too bad they're fickle, and having a world tumble is a lot harder than losing your feet in one that's pretty damn solid and cruel. States of mind are the greatest of all comfort zones. They're energy fields, stimuli filters and outworldly capes. Things don't have leverage where they don't have effects. They're emotional kaleidoscopes and they make for some damn beautiful illusions. What sucks is that they're not very selective with what they filter and become autonomous after a while, and I'll be damned if you can tell what's true and what's loch ness after a couple of months.
Pillars of salt and pillars of sand.
I'm rambling.
I'm guessing the most prominent bit about growing up is functioning without comfort zones, after having lost them or never having found them at all. People talk of it as if it's a liberating experience, like comfort zones are crutches for the life-ly challenged. They flush their savings into some makeshift mountain hike and they think that counts. But it doesn't. It's not until you have nothing and no one to depend on that you get to realize how it's really like. The funny part is this, it has equal parts horror and ecstasy, and it will drive you up the wall sometimes by how amply you get your fill of each scope, and how often you shuffle the two. It's incredibly hard to find your feet after losing ground (more literally than metaphorically, for that's how it feels on more levels than one), and calling it hard is optimistic. You have no idea if you'll ever find ground, and every expectation you were ever naive to hold and nourish will fall to pieces as you come to terms with just how helpless you really are, and how hard it is to make it out there. It feels like slaying a dragon sometimes. With a toothpick. That you don't even have or know how to acquire.
Many would argue that what makes life feel great is the fact that you don't know how things will turn out. That's not quite what I'm talking about. I'm talking about losing the simple truths and having trouble knowing what's real from then on.
Comfort zones can be people, ideas or states of mind. They're the things you know will never change, and will be there waiting for you in case you need somewhere to hide and feel safe. They don't judge or demand, they don't question or budge. They don't leave. They're there, and they're neutral if not pleasant. But most of all, they're unchanging. They're portable homes. You know that no matter how many things go to shit, everything's gonna be okay because they're there and they make everything better without necessarily doing anything about it. They're the things that people take for granted.
People make terrible comfort zones, no matter how great they are. You don't even feel yourself opening up to them, and you have no idea they've been landmarked as one until they're gone and it feels like you've been hit in the head with Thor's hammer. Ideas make great comfort zones, you can build entire worlds out of them that will engulf you and give you sustenance for as long as you need to retreat from the world of men. Too bad they're fickle, and having a world tumble is a lot harder than losing your feet in one that's pretty damn solid and cruel. States of mind are the greatest of all comfort zones. They're energy fields, stimuli filters and outworldly capes. Things don't have leverage where they don't have effects. They're emotional kaleidoscopes and they make for some damn beautiful illusions. What sucks is that they're not very selective with what they filter and become autonomous after a while, and I'll be damned if you can tell what's true and what's loch ness after a couple of months.
Pillars of salt and pillars of sand.
I'm rambling.
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